I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions?

I'll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth, and deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book!

As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown.

For my own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men.

Our wills and fates do so contrary run, That our devices still are overthrown; Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.

It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking.